Tim Finnegan's Wake Songtext
von The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem

Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street
A gentle Irishman mighty odd
He'd a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet
To rise in the world he carried a hod
You see he'd sort of a tipplin way
with love for a liquor poor Tim was born
To help him on with his work every day
He'd a drop of the Craythor every morn'

And whack Fol-De-Dah now dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake


One morning Tim got rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake
Fell from the ladder and broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed
A gallon of whiskey at his feet
And a barrell of porter at his head

And whack Fol-De-Dah now dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake

His friends assembled at the wake
And Missus Finnegan called for lunch
First they brought in tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O'Brien began to cry
Such a nice clean corpse did you ever did see
Tim mavourneen, why did you die?
Hold your gob said Paddy McGee.

And whack Fol-De-Dah now dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake.


Then Maggy O'Connor took up the job
Biddy she says You're wrong I'm sure
Biddy then gave her a belt on the gob
And left her sprawling on the floor
Then the war did soon engage
Woman to Woman and Man to Man
Shillelah law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began

And whack Fol-De-Dah now dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake.

Mickey Maloney he raised his head
When a bottle of whiskey flew at him
It missed him falling on the bed
The liquor scattered over Tim
Tim revives see how he rises
Timothy rising from the bed
Said, "Whittle your whiskey around like blazes
Thanum an Dhul, do ye think I'm dead.

And whack Fol-De-Dah now dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake.